


Lie One, Lie Two, the thousand lies

by imsfire



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Backstory, Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24355465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imsfire/pseuds/imsfire
Summary: Jyn will never let "Uncle Orson" win.A brief look at Jyn's emotional landscape and coping mechanisms during her years after Saw and pre-Rogue One; bitter anger, painful awareness of her vulnerability, and a carefully hidden but ever-present hatred of the Empire.
Kudos: 11





	Lie One, Lie Two, the thousand lies

**Author's Note:**

> For the final day of Jyn Appreciation Week 2020; free day.

Jyn visualises all the forces that keep her down; the little power trips of petty officialdom, the false comforts of propaganda, the spitefulness of fellow criminals getting one-up by any means they can. She personifies them, names them, knows them all, interwoven as they are like the patterns of a tapestry. The picture they weave is the system and all its threads are lies; Lie One of the Empire, Lie Two, Lie Three, and so on down a long count. 

_An Orderly Galaxy is a Galaxy of Opportunity_ ; it’s one of the catch-phrases of the Empire. _Just be Yourself and you can Better Yourself_ is another. 

Opportunity is a lie, Be Yourself is a lie. It’s all false, every word, every pathetic crumb of it. Jyn can never be herself, not unless she’s prepared to risk dying for the privilege. And she hates it, hates it and can never be free of it. Since Saw cast her off she has done nothing except try to keep her head down and her belly fed, and is it so much to ask, that she should be able to accomplish such tiny goals?

Her head down, her belly fed, and an occasional side-swipe at the monstrous world.

She personifies the system itself with the name the man in white used to say she should call him. The smiling man in white who play-acted friendliness, to a child who couldn’t tell what he did behind her back. He used to bring her a sugar apple when he visited. He patted her hair. Helpless, innocent child; stupid, ignorant little Jyn. 

_Uncle Orson’s got a present for you, don’t you want to see what it is? (Galen, tell her not to be shy of me). Uncle Orson isn’t going to frighten you, you silly little Dollykins, I’ve got something nice for you. Come **here**._

How could she not have known how false he was, how utterly fake his goodwill? That poisonous face, indifferent to anything that did not bring him personal gain of some kind, in profit or status.

She never knew his full name, this unctuous bossy man who smiled at her and took charge of her parents, and came to kill them when they dared to leave. But she calls the system Uncle Orson, in her mind. The whole casual culture of oppression, that tells her it’s making the galaxy a better place, yet allows her no opportunity even to support herself safely, much less improve her lot in the world, or do the smallest thing to help the countless millions of others worse off even than she is. The indifference and self-interest, the false hope and phoney chances, petty spite and quick betrayal, and the fear and greed underlying them. Lie One, Lie Two, the thousand lies, the whole damned society built on falsehood and lies. 

It would crush her if it could. She will not let it. That would be letting Uncle Orson win.

He must never win.


End file.
